From Beginning to End
by magnoliablossom27
Summary: What had he heard about her from his cook? How did he fall in love with her, and how did he try to get over it? What does he do to avoid Hattie? The story from Char's perspective, plus more. Includes the time before and during Ella and Char's friendship that the lovely Ms. Levine didn't cover. Will update at least once per week.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: The characters and most of the story courtesy of Gail Carson Levine. I'm just a fan!

It was turtle soup again. Who would kill a poor defenseless turtle just to make a bowl of mediocre soup? It's not like they could run away to save themselves. Char brought his soup spoon up to his mouth and pretended to sip some of it, then returned the spoon to the bowl.

"Yes Sir Rothor, I agree entirely," he responded to the man to his left, who had been talking his ear off for two courses already. How had it only been two courses? Char fervently hoped the next course would have something more substantial, with meat at least. How many courses was this dinner supposed to be?

"Does it really? I'm sure you know much more about these things than I do," he said, to prod Sir Rothor along. As Sir Rothor turned red and starting protesting while looking rather pleased, Char let his eyes wander to the rest of the dinner guests. Luckily the table had broken into smaller conversations, and Char had only Sir Rother to contend with. There were only twelve people at dinner this evening, and none of them particularly important. Besides Prince Charmont and his parents, King Jerrold and Queen Daria, the diners were Sir Rothor and his wife, three traveling academics (historians, Char was fairly certain), another knight whose name Char had forgotten, and, of course, Sir Nealan, his wife, and their charming, worldly, and elegant daughter Sophia.

Or at least, that was how his mother the Queen has described Sophia when she had waylaid him that afternoon. She had just returned from finishing school, his mother just happened to mention. She just happened to be invited to dinner tonight. She just happened to come from a very respectable family, and no Char, I wasn't looking for you for any particular purpose, his mother had said. Just thought we would talk a little about tonight's dinner guests, she had said. Subtle indeed, Mother.

Char wasn't sure charming, worldly, and elegant were exactly the adjectives he would have chosen himself. He supposed she was pretty, but he couldn't come up with anything better than that. Maybe she was worldly and elegant around other people, but when they'd talked earlier she'd been trying far too hard to be charming to have actually succeeded. She seemed boring, but then again he probably did too. How on earth did they expect him to woo eligible young ladies at a formal dinner at the palace?

Char noticed a silence coming from his left, and abruptly turned to look at Sir Rothor, who was looking at him with a twinkle in his eye and a knowing grin. Sir Rothor was quite a few steaks too heavy and had hair quite a few shades too grey to be an active knight in his father's forces, but Char knew that he had been well known some decades ago for being very successful in the field, mostly due to his intelligence. There was a reason he was often called now to give the King council, and it wasn't just because of the sizable amount of land he had inherited.

"So, lad," Sir Rother began. "Getting a little distracted are we?" He followed that with a wink and looked in the direction of the elegant Sophia.

Char immediately started blushing. And then started blushing more at how easy it was to make him blush. Sir Rothor had caught him looking around at the group and had misinterpreted the time Char's eye spent on Sophia. He'd been so busy looking around he hadn't even noticed that the turtle soup had been replaced by a few thin slices of what looked like duck.

"Ah, well, that's why we're all here isn't it?" Sir Rothor cut in before Char could come up with an adequate response. "You're too young to be openly looking for a bride, or rather, for Her Royal Highness to be openly looking for one for you. But it won't be long until you're old enough, and there's no point wasting time."

"I'm far too young to marry!" Char exclaimed unintentionally before glancing around and lowering his voice. "I'm sure Sophia and her family were invited, like yourself and your wife, to meet the historians who are visiting." Please let that be why they were invited, Char continued to himself.

"Oh don't worry lad, Lady Nina and I don't mind being used as fillers to seat a table while their royal highnesses and the best families of Kyrria conspire to throw pretty girls in front of you! After you've been married for as long as we have, well, we'll take an evening of fine dining and entertainment any day," replied Sir Rothor amiably. "Indeed, such fine duck and turtle soup I haven't had in years!"

Char noticed that Sir Rothor had cleaned his plate, and Char looked down to his own. There wasn't much there, but at least it was real food.

"I'm sorry if my eye was wandering, Sir Rothor," Char earnestly began. "I meant no disrespect."

"Of course not, of course not. Lads your age aren't quite as enthralled with the natural habitats of centaurs as ancients like myself are, and there's nothing wrong with that. I remember going to dinners just like these when your father was a young prince, and the late King wanted to make a match for him. And much more tedious those were, because I still cared a great deal about being impressive and dignified myself."

As Sir Rothor had hoped, that brought a slight smile to Char's face. The poor boy had been impeccably mannered all night, and Sir Rothor knew firsthand that being stately was truly exhausting. In fact, his only slip-up so far that Sir Rothor had seen was letting his eyes wander over to Sophia that once. Not bad, for a King-to-be, but far too proper for a boy of 16.

Char redirected the conversation to the academics visiting, and had a much better time being involved in the conversation this time around. The meal was almost over, and soon he'd be able to grab some real food from the kitchens. Maybe ancients were happy with turtle soup and two thin slices of duck, but Char was pretty sure there'd be meat pies cooked and hidden away somewhere in preparation for tomorrow's banquet. High Chancellor Thomas was going to speak, and it was sure to be a bore, but at least a banquet meant more food to choose from, and his younger sister would probably attend. Maybe he'd be able to sneak away during the Chancellor's speech… no, that would be highly disrespectful and sure to be noticed by many of the guests. He'd have to tough it out.

As he walked toward the kitchens after dinner, Char sighed. He had escaped without having to say more than 5 or 6 sentences to Sophia all evening. Tonight had been better than usual, but these constant dinners, banquets, and balls were getting to be too much for him. Maybe if Sophia and all the other ladies dragged along to these events weren't so tiresome… but no, he couldn't blame them for what wasn't their fault. He knew that he was gaining a reputation among Kyrria for being incredibly well mannered and respectful, which, though a desirable reputation to have, was really just code for dull. He knew that he wasn't truly dull, but that he simply didn't know how else to handle social events. He had been trained in etiquette his whole life, and he turned on that side of himself the same way he put on his doublet and laced his perfectly shined black formal shoes.

The rest of my life, Char thought to himself. I'm going to spend the rest of my life like this. His only consolation was that it was not going to last forever, because he'd undoubtedly die of boredom before too long.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm writing these chapters so that they alternate with ones from Ella Enchanted, so I recommend reading the first chapter of this story, then the first from _EE_, then this one, and so on, but it's not necessary for the story. Enjoy! Comments are always appreciated J

Characters and the world of Kyrria property of Gail Carson Levine.

Char blushed, and tried to will the sounds to stop. He was fairly certain everyone within 5 miles could hear his stomach growling. He fixed his eyes on the empty pedestal ahead of him, too afraid to look around and see if anyone was giving him indignant looks. He'd had a large breakfast before attending his lessons that morning, but he'd had to skip lunch in order to prepare for the banquet.

There it went again. _Stop it, you lousy oaf_, he thought to himself. What good was all that etiquette training if his own body betrayed him? He may as well just stand up and announce to the crowded yet silent room that he was only there for the food. That would go over really well.

High Chancellor Thomas was almost at the pedestal, walking with about the same urgency he did anything else; namely, none. The Chancellor reached the front of the room and began to slowly speak on the importance of the anniversary of the treaty they were celebrating. Char had studied it in lessons that morning but sincerely wished he hadn't wasted part of his brain on remembering such useless trivia. He knew that every aspect of Kyrria's history should interest him, and that it was vitally important he be an expert on it, but accepting that didn't make him enjoy his lessons any more that he would have otherwise.

Char winced as his stomach tried to impersonate a lion. High Chancellor Thomas was talking away, and no servers were in sight. He'd hoped that since the speech was going to be in front of the dinner tables, they would perhaps be eating at the same time. No such luck. He noticed that the people directly in his line of sight seemed to be paying absolutely no attention to the Chancellor. He rotated his head slightly, half-hoping that he'd find someone asleep or picking their nose. Sir Rothor, who he'd befriended at last night's dinner, looked as if he wasn't paying any attention at all. Char realized that there were very few people his age in the room. Perhaps if he had friends, he would be looking around to locate his friends. Maybe he would wink at them, or make a face to indicate how boring this was. But then again, Char didn't really have any friends.

The only people his age who lived in the castle were young servants, and if they were working at the age of 16 they certainly didn't have time to waste talking to him. When he was younger he had had playmates, but as they'd grown older they had all begun to treat him very differently. Perhaps that's why he was so close to his sister Cecilia, who had just turned 14. If she had been forced to come to this banquet then maybe he would have been making faces or winking at her, but somehow she had managed to get out of it. He had been going to events like this one since he was 11 or so, but she wasn't going to inherit and he was. He was glad for her sake that she managed to escape so many of these tedious things, but he wished he had someone to commiserate with.

He looked to his right and saw a woman looking over at him. Startled, he started to turn his head back toward the Chancellor, when she winked at him! He froze, and then slowly smiled. She was sitting two seats over from him, with her husband sitting between them. She looked to be a few years younger than his mother, with long brown hair and a twinkle in her eye.

Lady Eleanor and Sir Peter. He had heard many interesting things about their family, some from his parents and some from Cook. Cook's real name wasn't Cook, of course, but that's what he'd grown up calling her. She was the head Chef at the castle, and she had been for as long as Char could remember. She had mentioned Lady Eleanor enough for Char to know that Lady Eleanor was one of the most well-liked people he'd ever heard of. Even both of his parents seemed to like her – his stern father even smiled when Lady Eleanor was mentioned, which was practically unheard of, and his mother always referred to her as "a dear girl," without fail every time Lady Eleanor was mentioned.

He looked back toward the Chancellor, who was still droning on, and then glanced back at Lady Eleanor. She was looking down at the table and doing something with her hands. Inconspicuously, Char tried to lean forward in his seat, so Sir Peter wasn't blocking him. When he saw what was on the table, he had to stop himself from clapping a hand over his mouth.

The Lady Eleanor has arranged her napkin into the shape of a head, albeit a blue linen one. As the Chancellor talked, she moved the napkin mimicking him! Char pressed his lips together firmly, but felt a smile growing on his face. Lady Eleanor, leaning over the table now, glanced up at him and winked again with a little smile. As the Chancellor paused for a breath, she moved the napkin head's mouth farther open as if it too were preparing a huge breath, and then as the Chancellor started she resumed making the napkin head's mouth move.

Char's chest started shaking as he tried to hold in laughter. He looked up at Lady Eleanor's face to see that she was intent on moving the napkin head, and was mouthing the words "blah blah blah blah" silently to herself. Suddenly the napkin was squashed as Sir Peter, frowning and not even looking at the table or over at his wife, reached out and took it away from her. Instead of being upset, Lady Eleanor looked back at Char and shrugged, with a rueful smile.

Char was standing up and leaving the room before he knew what he was doing. Shoulders shaking, he glided past startled servers who were moving to bring out dinner, and rushed out in the evening air, laughing as he made it outside.

* * *

"You would like their daughter, Ella."

Char looked up from his sandwich, startled. It had been a few days since the banquet, but this was the first time he'd really talked to Cook since then. She had asked how he'd enjoyed the food, and he'd reluctantly had to admit that he'd missed the food what with having to remove himself from the room. He was pretty sure the story was all over the country by now, though not many probably new _why_ he had gone running out of the banquet like a madman. Cook seemed to take it remarkably well that he'd skipped the meal she'd meticulously created, and had gone on to talk about how much her friend Mandy enjoyed working for Lady Eleanor and Sir Peter, but he had forgotten they had a daughter. He didn't think he'd ever seen her, probably because she was too young to go to events at the castle.

"I've told you about her before, Young Prince. She's the one who breaks dishes just by being in the same room as them." Cook always called him Young Prince. In fact, she called his two brothers Young Prince as well. He was sure if he had more than one sister they'd all be Young Princess.

"Isn't she a little girl?" Char asked, returning to his food. He remembered vaguely hearing stories from Cook about her friend Mandy's problems with the girl who was always her tripping over her own feet and breaking things. Cook had always liked to compare him favorably to other misbehaving children of nobles, but Char had gotten the impression, despite the stories, that this girl wasn't one of those hooligans that Cook grumbled about. The stories usually portrayed her as a well-meaning trickster, and whenever a new story came her way Cook had told it to both him and Cecilia.

"A little girl!" Cook looked up, shocked. "She's older than the Young Princess, which puts her at, oh, almost 15 years old probably? A shame your sister has gone traveling, they really should have been friends long before now. Why Young Prince, thinking she is a little girl, really now! I'm sure you've met her before."

Cecilia had left the day before, and Char wasn't sure when she'd be home. He would miss her, but he knew she would enjoy being away from home for a change.

"I don't think I have, Cook. Surely if she were almost 15 she would have come to events at the castle before now, though. Perhaps I've simply never noticed her."

After that Char had to put up with a lot of grumbling about Young Princes who don't pay Young Ladies proper courtesies, though Cook did admit that Lady Eleanor and Sir Peter didn't attend many events at the castle, likely because Sir Peter's business kept him away from Frell often. Judging by what he'd seen at the banquet, it seemed likely that Lady Eleanor might avoid formal events when her husband wasn't home to drag her along to them. He wondered if there was a way to invite them and their daughter to dine at the castle without his mother starting the wedding preparations. He knew that celebration would certainly ensue if he asked for a girl to be brought to dinner. Maybe if he were lucky she would be next on the list of eligible young ladies his mother dragged in front of him. He obviously didn't want to court or marry her, but with Cecilia away he didn't have any other friends near his age. If nothing else, Ella sounded like she'd be an interesting friend to have.


End file.
